Brotherband 4: Slaves of Socorro Read Free Page B

note of the terrain around her, searching for hoofprints, broken branches on low-lying bushes, scraps of fur caught on thorns, scars in the bark of trees that might indicate a stag had been rubbing his antlers against them to rid them of the irritating ‘velvet’ that coated the horns, or to mark his territory – searching for anything, in fact, that might indicate the recent passage of a large animal.
    She saw none of these things, until she rounded a bend in the narrow game trail, stooping to make her way under a tangle of thorny vines. She straightened and found herself looking at a large tree several metres away, with marks on its trunk that set her senses jangling.
    Something had gouged two sets of parallel scars in the thick bark – four in each set. She looked around warily, her left hand automatically dropping to draw one of her darts from the quiver at her belt. Her right hand already had the atlatl ready.
    The marks were those made by a bear, tearing its claws through the bark of the tree, to sharpen them or strengthen them, or just out of sheer contrariness. She knew that bears would be abroad at this time of year but this was the first time she had seen evidence of one so close to Hallasholm.
    She took a pace or two towards the tree, touching the scars on the trunk. The sap in the torn bark was still tacky, meaning the bear had been here sometime in the past one or two hours. Again, she looked all round her, but there was no sign of a bear anywhere she could see.
    ‘It’s the one you don’t see that’s the problem,’ she told herself. It occurred to her that she had been talking to herself a good deal lately. ‘That might not be a good thing,’ she said, then realised she was doing it again. She frowned and shook herself. She would have to stop this.
    The bear was a big one. She had to look up to see where the scars on the tree trunk began, well above her head. From their position, she estimated that the animal would stand half a metre taller than her own height. And it would be correspondingly bulky. She wasn’t armed to fight a bear, so she turned and retraced her steps down the game path.
    On the way back to the cabin, she detoured to check the snares she had set several hours earlier. She found two plump plovers, a grouse and a rabbit in the snares. A good haul, she thought. Obviously, nobody had hunted this area for some time. She gathered them into her game bag and made her way to the cabin. Her full attention was turned to the woods around her as she stayed alert for any sign of that bear. She considered what she would do if she saw it. Initially, remain very, very still and hope it would go away. But if it charged her – and if it had cubs it might well do so – her best chance would be to climb a tree. Accordingly, she continually made note of suitable trees within reasonable running distance.
    She reached the cabin and breathed a small sigh of relief. Bears were not animals to tangle with. They were unpredictable. And they were big and strong and had claws. That was not a reassuring combination, and the fact that there might be one somewhere in the vicinity had set her nerves on edge.
    She shut the door, and smiled as she realised how false was the sense of security it gave her. The wood was old and warped and the leather hinges were dried out and fragile. One good shove from a bear would undoubtedly smash it open, tearing it from its hinges. But, flimsy as it was, it was a psychological barrier and, as far as she knew, bears did not tend to enter buildings – unless they smelled food.
    She moved outside again, and away from the cabin. She skinned and dressed the rabbit, and cleaned and plucked the birds she had taken from the snares, throwing the residue into the bushes that fringed the clearing where the cabin was set. She hung the birds from the edge of the verandah and took the rabbit carcass inside.
    While there was still light, she made a hurried trip to the stream that ran nearby,